There are no small roles…

As I was driving back from the pharmacy to my house early this morning, I passed a fast food restaurant. I won’t tell you which one since my blog isn’t about free advertising. But let’s suffice it to say that it starts with Burger and ends with King.

One of the King’s workers were standing outside, obviously about to start their morning shift. But not just standing outside, but standing with such a posture that indicated that she was either in prayer or meditation or something along those lines.

“And whatever burgers your hands find to flip, flip them with all your heart, as unto the Lord.”
-Colossians 3:23 (NJV)

Because of my own spiritual backdrop, I figured she was praying. Heck, maybe even worshipping right there outside the center of the flame-broiled universe. I suppose she could have been attempting to channel the spirit of Emeril, but I’d like to think she was praying…you know…praying to God.

As I drove on, I began to surmise just what she might have been praying about. Likely the same things I pray for: Strength, wisdom, understanding, peace, and an ability to love beyond my own ability to love. Things like that. Thoughts like this are encapsulated in this simple prayer:

Today I rise so that I may fall– I relinquish my all and follow Your call.
Take my hands, my heart, my soul– When these are surrendered them I am whole.
Make me Your vessel, Your jar of clay– Then fill me and use me in a mighty way.
Amen.

And in those moments, I was so grateful for a God who doesn’t show partiality (Acts 10:34). God’s love and grace doesn’t give a rip that I’m a pastor. Nor does it care that she’s an employee at a fast food joint. God’s grace is God’s grace for everyone. In fact, its quite likely that she’s more Jesus where she is than I am where I am.

Minutes before driving past her, I was at home and had taken some time to sit and read. I was reading some from the Bible and some from a book I enjoy called “This day with the Master” by Dennis Kinlaw. I wrote in the margin of this book (for the first time) a simple prayer, “Lord, when others are with me, may they feel like they’re with You.” My heart’s desire is for the presence of God to be so evident in my character that those who spend any time with me catch a glimpse of the grace of God, the love of God, the gentleness of God, the patience of God; the character of God found within me.

And I pray the same thing for that young woman, standing outside that burger joint, starting her day with the Master.

I’m blogstipated.

For those who check back to see what’s new, I apologize. Clearly, nothing seems to be new in Jerry’s world. That’s far from true, I’ve just been sticking to my guns that when I don’t have anything worthwhile to write about, I won’t fake it. I’m sure that’s the sign of a poor writer. I’m sure this never happened to Tolstoy or Chaikovsky. Writing just flows from brains born to write. Right?

So, here I am on a Sunday afternoon. Kids are all outside enjoying the weather and I’ve got some time to sit and write. What about? “Aye, there’s the rub.”

I’m reading a book right now that I’m really loving. It’s called “The Importance of Being Foolish”. It was written in 2005 by a Franciscan priest named Brennan Manning. He’s got an amazing story, and you can see a little of it at http://www.brennanmanning.com/

Next month, I’m going to be delivering a 4-week series of messages entitled “Digging Deep Without Getting Buried”. This series will center around the issue of the spiritual act of Bible reading, Bible study, Biblical understanding, and Bible application.

However, its pointless to read a letter when you’re not interested in the author. And I’m afraid that the church has put a huge emphasis on the discipline of Bible reading without the passionate love affair with God that needs to preclude it. I know that Bible reading perpetuates that relationship, but if we are only shoving people to read the Bible and not fostering a deep love relationship with their Creator, then we are simply creating a “to do” type of Christianity, akin to legalism. This type of Christianity says “I’m a Christian because I…

“…go to church.”
“…pray.”
“…read my Bible.”
“…have a fish on my car.”

Not that those things are bad, they’re just not the core of the life Jesus was talking about. Every command Jesus gave along the lines of “to do” was always born out of a love relationship with Him. So, to borrow the words from my friend Kent Julian, we are so clearly to “be” before we are to “do”. Should we pray? Of course. But who cares to talk to someone they neither know nor care to learn more about? Should we gather for worship regularly? Of course. But why bother if its simply religious ritual rather than relational and supernatural celebration? Should we read the Bible? Of course. But when we neither know where it came from (really), are frustrated by its content for lack of understanding, nor truly have the grounds on which to built that understanding, then…well, we just don’t. We know John 3:16 and figure that’s the big one, so that’s all we really need. Should we put a fish on our cars? That one’s debatable. Especially if you’re a hot-headed lead-foot.

So, before I can/will even begin this series of messages, I must surrender myself and submit myself to a deeper love affair relationship with Jesus. If I am inauthentic in this, I have no right to expect even one of my listeners to take me seriously. And so, when I stand up on week 1 and begin, it won’t be about the technical, bibliographical, archaeological, or historical facts that allow us to trust that the Bible as our truth source. I will speak only of the love of God for every person. I will begin there because not doing so can only end us up at a shallow sense of duty to read a book we don’t really “get” and would rather not read longer than we need to in order to alleviate our sense of “guilt” for not reading it. Whew.

I wish I had a nice wrap-up for this one, but I don’t. Instead of typing it up in a nice bow, I’d like to invite even more unwrapping. Would you take a second now and reply to this blog? Whatever has come to mind is all I’d like to hear.

Careful where you park.

This past weekend, I took 100+ teens to our annual VA district winter retreat in Harrisonburg, VA. On Friday night, one of our high school guys came to me and asked for a ride to Walmart, because he has forgotten something. Happy to help, I said, “Sure, I’ll take you.”

However, the only vehicle I had at my disposal was the minibus I drove up to Harrisonburg. So, he and I climbed aboard and off we went to Walmart which could be seen from our motel. We could have walked but it was late and cold and we were two guys with access to a minibus.

This Walmart, like most, had two separate entrances. One entrance had “Low Prices” over the door, and the other had “Food Center” over the door. Because of what he needed, I figured parking near the “Low Prices” entrance would be the better choice. Because it was so late at night though, only one entrance was unlocked. And you guessed it, it wasn’t the “Low Prices” door we were at.

I should have figured it out because the handful of cars that were there were all parked at the other entrance; the one that was actually open.

Instead of getting back in the minibus, we decided just to walk the distance to the other entrance. We left the minibus where we parked it, essentially in the empty part of the parking lot.

We weren’t inside for probably more than 10 minutes before he found what he was looking for. I decided that while he was checking out, I’d go and walk back to the minibus and drive it back and pick him up. Nice guy, aren’t I?

When I walked outside I looked across the distance of the parking lot and saw someone standing at the door of the minibus. Instantly I realized that this person was trying to break into the minibus. He was trying to pry the door open. The one thing I can say for this person is that he doesn’t discriminate. Here was a person breaking into a minibus which has the HUGE sign on the side which reads “Guardian Christian Academy”. Yep, this guy was a real winner.

For whatever reason though, I didn’t stop walking toward him and the bus. He tried for a few more seconds (while unaware that I was moving toward him), and finally gave up. He walked toward the front of the bus where I noticed a second person standing.

In hindsight, perhaps I should have gone back inside, out of the way of unknown, potential danger. After all, these guys could have been armed. But instead, I continued to walk. And not only did I walk toward them, but I stared them down.

As I approached the bus, I took the keys out of my pocket (in a none-too-obvious fashion) and unlocked the door. The sound of the door opening got the man’s attention and he turned toward me and returned my stare. And I stared back.

And while I climbed into the driver’s seat, I stared. And so did he.

And as I turned on the engine, I stared. And so did he.

And as I revved the engine, I stared. And he turned away and began to walk.

For no reason whatsoever, I told no one about this encounter. I simply gave it some thought.

God speaks to me through experiences. Through His Word, yes. By His Spirit, yes. But most clearly and most often through daily experiences like this one.

I’ve been in ministry (and breathing) long enough to have learned an unswerving truth. You ready? Here it is: When we go it alone, we get in trouble.

“I’ll just park over here by myself, away from the safety and security of the numbers of the other cars in the parking lot. What could happen?” These are the thoughts I had as I pulled that minibus into that parking spot of that empty part of that parking lot of that Walmart.

And while I escaped with my life, many don’t. Not in spiritual terms, at least.

I’ve seen time and time again people lured away from spiritual community by the enemy and instead choose to go it alone. And never–not even once–have I seen that work out well for anyone. Consider the Garden. The temptation of the fruit wasn’t about a snack. It was about satan’s unending desire to destroy community wherever he finds it. The temptation satan placed before Eve was that of “C’mon, go it alone.” Satan’s #1 weapon in his arsenal is not porn, it’s not drugs, it’s not infidelity, it’s not lying, it’s not cheating. It’s isolation.

Months ago, I watched the BBC special “Planet Earth”. If you haven’t watched this series, do yourself a favor. Not only is it visually stunning in the purest form, but its got God written all over it. Funny, because I’m fairly certain that the creators weren’t aiming at pointing out God. One of the things caught on video was the hunt of the coyotes on a particular herd of animal. I wish I could remember what type, but that’s not important. The way the coyote was able to capture the prey was separating it from the rest of the herd. And Satan works just like that. Whether emotionally or spiritually–if he can get you away from the herd, or even feeling that way, he’s half way there to capturing you with some destructive temptation.

When God created us, He created us to need us. Even atheists have friends in which they trust and confide in. That’s because God has hardwired humans to crave and thrive in oneness with others. And while that certainly works well on the back of a Harley, or on a golf course, or around a quilt, or in a common novel, or at a poker table, the thread that runs through it all is that I am safe when I am surrounded by those who love, support, and look after me; no matter how old I get.

I’ll wrap it up here because I’ve got to go and get ready for small group tonight. We eat together, share the details of life together, read/study God’s Word together, and pray together. And we have all found in the others a safe place to fall. A comforting fortress of spiritual community and oneness. A full parking lot in which to park.

The Warmth of Community

At 7:50 a.m. this morning, when it was time to trek down the street with my 4 kids (though the middle schooler must walk at a significant difference to maintain her “cool” quotient), it was a crisp 5 degrees. That’s a spring day for some places on earth, but for Richmond VA, it’s downright cold. It was a cold that slapped me in the face the second I cracked open the front door. A cold that says, “I dare you to inhale through your nose.” Just plain cold.

Now, my wife and I have a “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” approach to parenting. We’re not too big on coddling or making things comfortable for our kids. There’s a kid down the street who sits in a Knight Rider look-alike Mustang every morning, keeping warm with his dad. Me? I’m more of a “Oh, you’ll be fine” kind of dad. But this morning, I conceided and offered to crank up the ol’ 92 Crown Vic and drive the kids the short distance to the bus stop, and allow them to sit in relative warmth until their bus came.

I had one taker. Macy, our 6 year old. She climbed in and we picked up our youngest on the way. And even though you could still see your breath in the car, it was warmer than being outside where your breath seemed to freeze to your face. So, the three of us sat…waiting for the bus.

But within the first 2 minutes or so, their friends began to gather at the bus stop. And it didn’t take but a second or two for my 5 and 6 year old kids to make a clear decision between warmth with me and freezing snot with their friends. I don’t have to tell you who won that one.

And as I sat there alone with warm air from the vents thawing me out, and watched my kids playing with their friends, I was reminded of the power of friends and community. It’s innate in us to crave connection with other humans. It matters to us if we matter to anyone else. And when it comes down to it, most would rather suffer with others than be comfortable alone. If you’ve read the first 3 chapters of the Bible, this is no shock at all. It just makes sense.

And it was probably within 60-90 seconds after my kids left the car that I made the same decision. I turned the car off, opened the door, and stepped out into the 5-degree cold to stand near another dad who was there with his son. Our desire for connection drives us to do crazy things.

I guess I shot myself…right?

Last week, my wife’s sister, her husband, and their two kids came to town to celebrate Christmas with us. We had a terrific time laughing and enjoying each other. My brother-in-law recently got a new handgun and wanted he and I to go the local shooting range. I had been there only once before and loved it, so I was totally into going again.

Upon arrival, I rented a Beretta 9mm–a beautifully crafted handgun that was such a fun gun to shoot. I enjoyed tearing up the paper target with this fine weapon. As I squeezed round after round (with a big smile on the inside), I was unaware that one of the range’s instructors was passing behind me. He stopped because he noticed I had just made an error in the way I was holding the gun. For the majority of the time, I had correctly held both thumbs along the left side of the gun (like the example picture to the left), but for some reason on my last shot had crossed my left thumb over my right. Big mistake. I welcomed the correction as he explained to me that because of the way the gun fires, having my left thumb across my right and therefore behind the hammer of the gun, could result in a sheering off of a chunk of my thumb. Good tip. I thanked him for the instruction and he kept going. Careful not to “cross the thumbs”, I finished off the rest of my box of ammo.

As you might guess, the story doesn’t end there.

Included in the $10 rental fee at the shooting range, I was allowed to swap out weapons and try a second gun. My brother-in-law Chris suggested a Glock 26 9mm. It was a bit more of a compact, boxier design. Honestly, it was like gripping a brick. I immediately didn’t feel comfortable with the way it felt in my hands, but having just purchased a box of ammo for this chunky firearm, I loaded it up and raised it at the target.

I’ll have to plead temporary insanity. Or maybe it was in my fervor to get used to this new feel of the Glock; I don’t know what it was. All I know is that after squeezing off that first round, I noticed a distinct pain in my left thumb. You guessed it: I crossed my thumbs. I immediately recalled just moments before how the instructor had told me not to do what I had just done.

The good news was, my thumb wasn’t that high behind the mechanism which slides backwards when the bullet goes forward (but for practical purposes, it travels at much the same speed). So, while technically speaking I didn’t shoot myself with a bullet, I did shoot myself with part of the gun traveling at the speed of the bullet. So, I shot myself WITH a gun, right? It’s a debate for the ages, I suppose.

I finished the rest of the rounds in the clip (9 more bullets) and headed out to the men’s room to wash my wound and shake my head at myself in the mirror. I wrapped my thumb in a paper towel and made my way back to the counter where that same instructor was standing. I showed him my bleeding thumb, and said, “You give good advice.”

I actually took a picture of my injured thumb, but for now I’ve decided not to post it. I’ll just say it’s healing nicely.

Reverse Psychology?

What do you see here?

(Nope, this is not a trick question.)

Just answer.

It’s an envelope on my desk.

See? I told you it wasn’t a trick question.

But it’s not just an envelope. This is one of the very same envelopes that were included in all the worship folders given to all adults who attended our church services this past weekend. And this envelope was for church attenders to put in a monetary Christmas gift for the church staff.
Nice, huh?

Now, take another look at the same envelope at a different angle:

To me, that’s just hilarious.

How We Win…

I love Fridays. It’s my day off.
Why do I love Fridays (besides the obvious aforementioned fact)?
Because Fridays mean I spend the day with my wife. All 4 kids are in school, and it’s just me and the Hotness. You’d love Fridays, too.

And each Friday we typically venture out on some near-flung excursion. This week we drove up to Short Pump Town Center and the surrounding area. As we were up there (only 20-25 minutes from our home), we decided to pay a visit to Tom Leonard’s Farm Market. And we did that because when we lived in Nyack, NY we were close to Stew Leonard’s (Tom’s Dad) Farm Market and always loved meandering through this unique grocery shopping experience. Never been there? Click this and take a peek at some photos. So, going to Tom Leonard’s at Short Pump is very similar (though slightly smaller) as going to Stew Leonard’s in Yonkers, New York.

And while we were strolling through the single-aisle, labryrinth-style layout of this unique store, something unexpected happened.

Tom Leonard’s employees are really friendly, so it was no surprise that as we went through, we got smiles and greetings and friendly offers for help. But I was caught off guard when one man dressed in the Tom Leonard red polo shirt approached us and said, “Hi Folks, how are you doing today? I’m Tom Leonard.”

Now, outwardly I played it cool. I think I said something like, “Hi, we’re great. How are you?” But inwardly (after my nanosecond of shock) I thought, “TOM LEONARD?!? WHAT ARE YOU DOING STOCKING SHELVES ALONGSIDE YOUR EMPLOYEES? WHAT ARE YOU DOING TALKING TO ME? YOUR NAME IS THE HUGE SIGN OUTSIDE!!!” He went on to ask us where we’re from, what I do for a living, and other various pleasantries before getting back to his work.

And after I left and processed through that brief exchange, I had an “aha” moment. Two things came to mind:
1. Jesus washed feet. Sweaty, dusty, stanky, manure-encrusted feet.
2. Jesus’ followers find success in their mission on earth when we live the truth we speak.

Tom Leonard had every right in many ways to say (and live) “My name’s on the sign. I’m not going to stoop down and stock shelves. I own this place.”

Jesus Christ had every right to say (and live) “My name is Jesus Christ. I’m the Son of God. I ain’t washing NOBODY’S stanky feet. They should be washing MY feet. I own this place.”

But the “magic” happened there in that grocery store aisle when that man named Tom Leonard actually opened his mouth and let me know, in one fell-swoop, what his life’s career mission is. But would it have been the same had I seen him, but never heard him? Obviously not.

Revelation 12:11 tells us how we as followers of Christ “win” or “overcome”.
“And they overcame…because of the blood of the Lamb and because of the word of their testimony, and they did not love their life even when faced with death.”

Our “success” as followers of Jesus is two-pronged. First, we must never forget that our salvation is based squarely in the center of the cross. It is His shed blood that makes our forgiveness possible. We must NEVER lose sight of the fact this it is NONE of us, and ALL of Him that substantiates the transaction of our reconciliation. But this is only the first half of Revelation 12:11.

The second part, which is evidence of a friendship with God is “the word of our testimony.” It is at some critical point that there MUST be a verbal conversation between myself and someone who doesn’t know the new life that Christ offers. Not preaching, not judging or condemning, not fear-mongering. Just loving people enough to open the door to an eternity with God. And some point we simply say it.

Thanks, Tom Leonard, for knowing your mission and for saying it.